


Not Designed to Feel Good

by hobbitdragon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Complicated Consent, Dissociation, Explicit Consent, Flashbacks, Frottage, Identity Issues, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Recovery, Sexual Diversity, Top Bucky Barnes, Unreliable Narrator, difficulty orgasming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitdragon/pseuds/hobbitdragon
Summary: There were two facts about how Steve and James had sex: one, that Steve always came first, and two, that James was always triggered. But it was often good even with that being the case, because James was always triggered regardless, and things were just Better around Steve.





	Not Designed to Feel Good

**Author's Note:**

> For those who wish to be spoiled for the entire content of this fic, check the end notes for more details about what the "Complicated Consent" tag refers to. I will state here, though, that this fic is NOT about "dubious consent." I've seen that tag misused way too often to describe rape/sexual abuse that the author doesn't want to admit is as bad as it is. Both characters in this fic are doing their absolute best to establish and maintain explicit consent with each other throughout the sexual encounter, but each is limited by his awareness of the situation. 
> 
> This fic does, however, contain repeated mentions and semi-explicit descriptions of rape, torture, and violence which occurred in the past. As such it is potentially triggering and disturbing to read.

There were two facts about how Steve and James had sex: one, that Steve always came first, and two, that James was always triggered.

James had done a great deal of intel-gathering since coming to the Tower, and it was his understanding that ‘being triggered’ meant intrusively thinking about or re-experiencing traumatic past incidents. This meant that ‘being triggered’ was most of his life nowadays, but especially during sex.

James didn’t tell Steve this, because it would make Steve cry, which was terrible, or go stoic and self-denying, which was worse. James wanted sex, and he could have it if they did it the right ways, and people told him that having things he wanted was good for him. A step toward recovery.

Or rather, James’s _body_ wanted sex; James wasn’t sure how to tell if _he_ wanted anything at all. He thought maybe he wanted Steve? Or his body did. Certainly he slept better, was more able to keep food down and weight on, and stopped shaking/vomiting/sobbing faster when Steve was nearby.

James’s therapist, Aaliyah, seemed to think that these were good signs, and as a result thought that being around Steve was worthwhile, pending further intel about what James really wanted. She believed that James’s body was a barometer for what he needed. But she _also_ believed (falsely) that James’s body was trustworthy and good rather than a horrible assemblage of meat that failed and failed and failed. The only good part of it was the metal arm, which never failed unless grievously damaged.

But James’s body wanted sex, and wanted it with Steve specifically. Erections occurred at random intervals, and pre-urination almost every morning. But erections occurred most frequently and lasted longest even unattended when James was around Steve.

Steve first thing in the morning, when his penis was also erect. Steve bending over in front of the fridge, considering what to eat, which happened often because Steve always needed to eat. Steve with his chest jiggling as he jogged across their apartment to fetch his jacket. Steve picking up a glass of water in his long fingers. Steve on the toilet with his pants down. Steve in the shower, wet and soapy. Steve eating. Steve sleeping. Steve doing almost anything, really, seemed to cause the penis to become erect.

The protocol for erections was situation-dependent, James knew. In public, one tucked them discreetly up against one hip if one wasn’t wearing a cup, not that James ever went out in public anymore. In therapy, one mostly ignored erections unless Aaliyah commented upon them. She never made it into a situation for mockery, just noted that he seemed to be experiencing a particular response. Around Stark, or anyone else who visited Steve’s floor of the Tower, the protocol was to conceal the erection, as it seemed to make Stark extremely uncomfortable the times he saw it occur while working on the arm.

James’s doctor said high numbers of erections were normal for him because of the serum, and because his body had finally cleared the libido-suppressing drugs Hydra had kept him on. James supposed this to be true, as even Steve’s less-defective body seemed prone to this particular failure, hence why he wore such tight underwear. (Sometimes even seeing the underwear by themselves without Steve in them was enough to give James an erection, which was ridiculous and clearly a malfunction.)

James could not prevent erections from occurring, but he could make them go away, and he could make them _not_ go away. Making them go away only required conscious recall of the numerous surgeries performed upon the Asset. Making erections stay mostly required looking at Steve. Which was convenient when they had sex.

Aaliyah had been very concerned when they first started having sex. She had asked James if he felt he was _required_  to have sex in order to stay in the Tower, and if he felt compelled to have it with anyone but Steve, and if they’d ever had sex before this. James hadn’t known the answer to that last question, but Steve had said yes, they’d had sex many many times both before and during World War Two. James thought he’d like to remember that, but it was gone like so much else from before Bucky died.

James had answered no to Aaliyah’s other questions. Clearly his assignment to the Tower was not dependent upon any of his functionalities, because if so he would have been discarded or reprogrammed long before this. Clearly it did not depend upon keeping Steve sexually satisfied either, because Steve had been masturbating on average three times a day every day before James had initiated sex, and continued at almost that pace even afterward.

Steve was not like Hydra, who had utilized the Asset’s secondary functions whenever they felt like it. Steve never initiated anything at all, and always let James choose.

Nonetheless, Aaliyah had brought Steve in for several sessions of his own. In the end she had concluded that sex between them was James’s decision to make, and instead talked with James about what consent looked like and how she had established that Steve was not coercing him.

Apparently, consent required a lot of things James hadn’t been aware of. The ability to say no, mostly, but there were many situational elements that could cause someone to be unable to say no, or be manipulated into saying yes. After Aaliyah had established that James was not being coerced, James set out to establish whether or not _Steve_ was.

It worried James, that Steve did not initiate. He knew why Steve did not, and truthfully he did not want Steve to do so. Aaliyah had told them both that James was to be the only person to initiate sexual intimacy, and while Steve was terrible at following orders most of the time, he always obeyed Aaliyah. So he never initiated sex.

Steve could _refuse_ sex if he wanted to (and had, sometimes, which was reassuring to James) but mostly he didn’t. Aaliyah said this was because Steve was a happy young man with an enhanced body and a partner he trusted and loved. James doubted this, because nobody could love the disgusting wreck the Asset had left behind when it died, but James didn’t have a better explanation for why Steve would subject himself to sex with James.

It was not fear of physical punishment motivating Steve. He had bested the Asset in its peak condition, and James was no match for Steve now. (Everyone, James included, had decided it was best to work _with_ his reluctant stomach, to get it to accept calories the normal way, than to have him intubated and force-fed as the Asset had been with Hydra. As a result, James had lost almost half of his muscle mass and all of his body fat. The arm was still a good weapon, but the rest of him was no longer very impressive, and the arm looked oversized and ridiculous on his shrunken frame. It meant, though, that Steve could easily maim or kill James should Steve decide at any point to withdraw consent for sex. That was good.)

Nor did Steve seem to be motivated by fear of disapproval should he refuse to have sex with James. Aaliyah would probably have preferred it if Steve had not said yes to James at all, and Steve valued Aaliyah’s input and approval a great deal. And _James’s_ approval wasn’t worth anything, despite what Steve said sometimes, so James couldn’t seriously imagine that Steve was motivated by trying to please him.

James also could not take away Steve’s food or shelter if Steve refused sex. The apartment belonged to Steve, or possibly Stark, and Stark supplied the food. (Or the House itself supplied it? James was not very certain on this point. The House seemed like a much more reliable person than Stark, who routinely forgot things others deemed important.) James could not take away Steve’s job, either, since Steve’s job seemed mostly to consist of killing everyone who had ever come into contact with the Asset before Steve himself, or who might have known about the Asset, or who belonged to the organization which had owned the Asset. Unless James got himself into fighting shape and destroyed the Hydra bases and operatives himself, he had no chance of preventing Steve from doing it. (Not that he wanted to.)

James supposed he could limit access to some of Steve’s hobbies as a form of coercion. The paint tubes, brushes, paper, and pencils would be easy to remove or destroy. But he had never done that, and had instead experienced a two-hour-long panic attack the one time he broke something of Steve’s by accident. Steve had to know that James posed no threat to his art supplies.  

Which left only the conclusion that Steve had sex with James because it was _enjoyable_ for Steve. Sometimes James could almost understand this. His flesh hand felt very nice when applied to a penis, and other than his face and the arm, all of him was smooth and hairless and nice to rub against. Aside from manual stimuation, that was mostly that was what they did. Steve seemed to particularly like to slot his erection into places not designed for the purpose but which were sensitive on James: the backsides of James’s knees, his flesh armpit, the divots around his prominent hipbones, the inside of James’s flesh elbow. Some of the positions were ridiculous and undignified, not to mention ticklish. But when James smiled, Steve smiled, and Steve achieved orgasm more quickly when smiling, it seemed.

It was when Steve wanted to be penetrated that James lost the ability to understand.

James had never asked for this. Steve had offered, repeatedly, and demonstrated his enjoyment of the activity so that even James trusted Steve’s word enough to allow himself the liberty. Mostly Steve had demonstrated his willingness by fingering and using various insertable objects on himself till he ejaculated onto his own face or chest.

Not that erections or even orgasms were proof of anything. The Asset had never climaxed during anything Hydra had done to it, but it had gotten hard sometimes even despite the drugs in its system, and James’s research showed that orgasm could be forced. But it made no sense for Steve to force his own orgasms in the way he did, so James had to conclude they were voluntary.

The House said that human bodies were diverse in terms of which stimuli they responded to sexually. It appeared that Steve’s body responded well to many things, two of them being penetration of the anus and stimulation of the prostate. And it just so happened that one of the objects capable of providing the desired stimulation was, apparently, James’s erection. If one were to believe what Steve himself said, this was his _favorite_ means of achieving orgasm.

Steve always came first and James was always triggered during sex, but it was often good even with that being the case, because James was _always_ triggered regardless, and things were just Better around Steve.

“Let me show you I’m not hurting,” Steve offered as he often did, and took James’s flesh hand to push two of its fingers into Steve’s anus. The flesh felt soft and intact, even when James probed it all around for tearing or abrasions. (Steve could be rough with himself sometimes.)

The motions made Steve smile and emit a long sigh through his nose. His sphincter muscles were clearly relaxed, open and well-lubricated around James’s digits. (It was a special type of lubricant, designed just for them by the House. It tasted bad, but stayed thick and reduced friction for a very long time. Intel showed that proper lubrication was necessary to prevent micro-tears in the delicate tissues of the anus and colon, probably even for supersoldiers.)

“There you go, sweetheart, that’s great, _feels_ great,” Steve said, and pressed a kiss to James’s metal arm.

Aaliyah had told James once that the human anus was an expressive orifice. James had laughed at that and so had she, but she had explained that while relaxation could be achieved with drugs or force, if James hadn’t done either of those things to Steve, then he could trust Steve and Steve’s body to tell him if they didn’t like something. If Steve’s anus wouldn’t go soft and open like it usually did, or if Steve’s erection went limp unexpectedly, those were things James could watch for.

James knew he had not drugged Steve, and that even if he had, very few drugs worked on Steve’s system. And given that James had been sitting anxiously nearby and not even touching Steve till now, he supposed that this level of relaxation had to mean something.

When James inserted his erection there a few minutes later, Steve grinned, sunny-faced and with every appearance of delight.

 _“Yeahhhh,”_ came the accompanying commentary. “God, you always feel so good. C’mon, all the way in-- _yes,_ fuck, c’mon, lean down on me, gimme your belly to rub against. _Fuck_  that's nice.”

Steve was hot and soft all around James’s erection, his insides textured yet silky, and James thought of all the times the Asset had been in Steve’s position. Washed out with enemas till its guts cramped, and strapped down as a precaution. James thought of the hard drub of erections inside the Asset, pushing its insides out of alignment till it could feel the connective tissues holding his guts in place stretching and warping from the intrusion. And then, afterward, the aching emptiness when its usage was done.

Steve wrapped his arms around James’s shoulders and nuzzled into his cheek, his breath hot on James’s ear. The calluses on Steve’s heels scraped against James’s buttocks as Steve pressed his feet there.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let me have it, go ahead and thrust. Yeah, it’s okay, just like that, we can start out slow.”

It hadn’t just been the Asset’s ass that had hurt afterward. It had been everywhere the straps cut into it and anywhere they’d struck it. Sometimes the inside of its cock and up into its bladder, if they’d put the catheter in already in preparation for cryofreeze. The catheter tube rubbed as the Asset was fucked, chafing places never meant to be touched. It wouldn’t come out again till after the Asset was unfrozen, sometimes years later.

Steve’s penis was a hard hot shape against James’s concave belly, and James let his weight fall a little harder on it. Steve whimpered under him, laying his hands flat on James’s shoulder-blades.

“Please?” James asked, barely able to make his mouth shape the sound. He didn’t have to ask more explicitly than that, though, because Steve would know what he meant. Steve was so soft and strong under him, and the movement of James’s erection in and out set little shivers of pleasure up his spine.

 _“Yes,”_ Steve breathed in response, right into James’s ear. “ _Yes_ , I want it, _yes_ , I want you. Yes, yes, yes, _yes--”_

James braced his arms, pushing up so he could look at Steve. It was hard to focus with so many memories crowded into his skull like this, a room overflowing with Hydra agents all waiting their turn with the Asset. How many had there been over the years? A hundred, a thousand? Steve was smiling again, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, skin flushed all over his face and collarbones. But then Steve’s expression changed, mouth falling open and brows wrinkling up over his nose.

 _“Yes--!”_ Steve choked out, both his hands and his anus clenching at the same time. Not an orgasm, James thought, but a presage to one. The flush crept down Steve’s belly. _“Yes,_ oh _fuck--yes,_ _yes_ \--I’m gonna come, _yes!”_

The tightness of Steve’s first climax felt good, squeezing close around James, and he wondered if the Asset’s body had felt this way for any of the people who had pushed into it. He wondered if they had wanted it to come, or if it had been so tight from the pain that the lack of orgasm hadn’t mattered. He didn’t remember.

He pushed all the way into Steve and held there, working his hips in sharp little motions, chasing a brief wave of pleasure that escaped just as quickly. It passed and James resumed normal thrusting, contenting himself with the glimmers he got that way.

He wished he were as sensitive as Steve, whose penis produced fine streams of clear liquid seemingly no matter how James touched it. James’s cock didn’t seem to have as many nerve endings or something, because it responded only to very intense pressure and prolonged contact. When they lay side by side and jerked off together, James always took a mortifyingly long time to finish, and it never seemed to be as intense as when Steve did. Steve’s orgasms were all agonies and paroxysms, while James’s were slow and quiet and mild.

And yet, James was glad he was nothing like Steve. The Asset would have come for its handlers if its body had been more like Steve’s. Hairy bellies on its penis and testicles, pricks of all shapes and sizes coughing up their contents into it, and all of it making it come.

James did not want to be like Steve.

 _“Ohhhh sweetheart,”_ Steve crooned, his voice deep and shaky. “You feel _so_ _good_. You gonna let me have another?”

“You know I never come this fast,” James replied, halfway between laughing and angry. “So of course you’ll come again.”

Steve smiled. _He_ got to be relaxed and easy and make jokes about sex because no one had ever raped him till he bled. The easiness of him frustrated James sometimes. Steve did not understand, _could_ not understand.

But that was good, because Steve _should_ not understand. He should never understand.

And Steve felt good inside, and he let James inside him in a bizarre and terrifying display of trust, and he kissed James’s face and neck and shoulders and breathed a soothing litany of words of consent so that James could believe it wasn’t rape. That he wasn’t repeating what had been done to the Asset. That the body hadn’t come full circle to partake of violation from the other side.

Bleeding had been rare, the Asset’s rapid healing normally preventing it. But once there had been a woman who fit her whole hand into the Asset. Her hands had been small, slender and bony, but it had tightened up around her wrist from pain and terror so that when she pulled her hand out, the Asset had torn. Only a small tear, the doctors said. Just enough to let out a little blood, nothing serious, and it healed away within a few hours so that when the doctors checked again later, their gloved fingers caused no pain.

Steve never tore or bled as a result of sex. James always checked with the first two fingers of his right hand, where the nerves were most sensitive to tiny variations in texture.

“Yes, _yes--_ that feels so good, can you please--a little harder?-- _Yes,_ just like that, _I’m gonna come again, yes, yes--!”_

For a moment James thought he would finally come too. His erection ached but the tip of it nuzzled into all the places where Steve was softest and most vulnerable, and the sweep of those tight tender places over the glans felt very, very good. James kept his eyes fixed on Steve’s face as Steve came, eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open, internal muscles clutching at James again. The sensations seemed to have Steve so transported that he forgot to say ‘yes’ for a solid ten seconds, and though it made James anxious (what if Steve was no longer consenting?) he didn’t think it proper to interrupt in order to remind Steve.

Then Steve’s orgasm passed, leaving Steve shaking and gasping out rough little _yes’s_ again into James’s metal forearm, each word creating a brief puff of condensation on the plates. James’s pleasure subsided too, back into a low blurt of sensation every time he thrust in.

His body wanted sex but it didn’t ever seem to want to _come_. Orgasm had to be coaxed out of it with patience and effort.

Was this how Zola had felt, trying to get the Asset to cooperate all those years ago? No wonder the man had resorted to electrocution. Sometimes James daydreamed of the kind of internal electrostimulation they used on livestock to force ejaculation. A small device inserted into the anus and _zap_ , orgasm. That way he could have all the pleasure of sex with Steve without the anxiety that his wreck of a body would fail them both again. James’s flesh arm was shaking and his stomach muscles were sore with effort, and he wanted to be _done._ His penis ached with stifled bloodflow, oversensitized and yet somehow still desperate for more.

Steve blinked upward, mischief flashing behind his long lashes as his lips drew apart into a grin.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you yours.”

James relaxed at the willing words and found his own mouth turning up in a helpless reflection of Steve’s. Steve knocked his knees against James’s sides, indicating James should move his arms so Steve could put his ankles on James’s shoulders. The new position allowed James to kneel upright, with a long, pleasing view of the whole of Steve’s body. James’s cock gave an appreciative jerk inside Steve, who grinned harder.

“Like what you see, huh?”

James said nothing, because physical responses could be explained as mere misfirings of a malfunctioning body, but outright admissions could be weaponized later. But he smiled at Steve again, and a thrum of sensation sang underneath his sternum.

Steve wrapped the purpled head of his own penis in one hand, whimpering at the touch and gripping tight around James. Steve had to be oversensitive too after coming twice, but he tipped up his chin at James in encouragement.

“C’mon, sugar. Do what you need to do.”

Some days, James got lucky and his recalcitrant genitals would allow him relief without resorting to this. But by now they both knew what to do to get James to finish when it proved difficult.

James wiped his sweating palm on the covers, got a good grip on Steve’s thighs, tried not to think about anything, and let himself fuck Steve as hard as he wanted. Long, brutal thrusts that smacked their skin together, loud in the otherwise silent room, driving James all the way in before withdrawing almost to the point of separation.

They had fucked the Asset like this. They had been un-enhanced, imprecise and over-eager, and had fallen out sometimes so their pricks slithered upward past the Asset’s testicles or skidded down over its tailbone. Then came the growls of displeasure, and the hurried fumbling to get back inside the flinching body that couldn’t get away.

 _“Yes!”_ came the louder counterpoint from Steve, who braced his left hand on the backboard. “B-- _James,_ please, _yes,_ sweetheart, right there! _Right there,_ that’s-- _that’s so good,_ _yes_ _honey,_ _yes,_ _yes_ \--!”

 _Yes yes yes,_ a litany of consent that grew both hoarser and louder as James kept at it. Steve’s face turned toward his lifted arm--embarrassment, perhaps, or did he not wish to see the disgusting body James was trying to force into obedience? Pleasure built anyway, rising in brief glimmers that would burst and subside between his legs, maddening. Steve’s body was a _good_ body, one that did not fail its owner over and over again, that gave and gave no matter how much James took. But what if Steve bled this time?

Then Steve’s head turned forward again, lashes fluttering open.

James stared in astonishment into the familiar face, expecting Steve to look away again any second now. Steve’s lids fluttered in a rapid blink, and his gaze slipped upward several times as though his eyes were beginning to roll back. But each time Steve pulled himself back to forward.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, and he smiled even despite the way James was using him. “I’m right here with you. It’s okay, I’m here, I want it, I want _you_ , and you’ve been so good to me.”

The breath went out of James in an awkward punchy burst and his rhythm stuttered. Pleasure bloomed upward between his legs, unfurling through his belly and out to the tips of him, and reality _compressed_. For a long moment James pulled inward away from everywhere else and just saw Steve, smiling up at him.

 _I’m coming,_ James thought. _Funny, I can feel it in my palms and feet more than my genitals._

It was a peaceful observation, and one corner of his mouth curled upward in contentment. Steve’s thighs felt delicious against his palms, each thrust a distinct, interesting addition to the sensation of orgasm.

 _I should tell Steve about this, he’ll think it's neat,_ James thought. And then the moment burst and James found himself shuddering his way through ejaculation, gasping for air with three of his limbs trembling. He collapsed onto Steve, whose legs parted to catch him.

Steve rotated his own torso, bracing more securely on the headboard as he took James’s weight and let him carefully down onto the covers before Steve pushed sideways with a twist of his hips. James fell out of him with a gasp, the cool air of their apartment shocking against his penis after the hot comfort of Steve’s body. But Steve curled around him as though to apologize, one bright warm hand on James’s cheek and Steve’s breath steamy on James’s forehead.

“There you go, honey, just like that. _Damn_ you were beautiful when you came. It’s okay, it’s okay, lemme just hold you, go ahead and shake.”

James stared up at the other man, embarrassed by the way his body was twitching, but unable to let go of the sight of Steve. They were so close that it nearly made James cross-eyed but he didn’t care. _Is this what want feels like?_ he asked himself, wishing he knew. No matter how many times he asked Aaliyah, he still couldn't understand the answer. 

Steve was still hard against James’s side, erection so wet and slippery so that every time James’s body tremored they slid together. A flicker of response went cross Steve’s face every time it happened. He must have been close again before James had finished.

James reached over with his good arm, squeezing Steve’s hip with the metal fingers.

“You can come again if you want,” James offered. It evoked a twinge of jealousy, because his own genitals were throbbing and he couldn’t imagine being able to feel anything pleasurable again so quickly. But Steve was  _good_ , with a good body that was meant to have good things happen to it.

Tentatively, waiting for a refusal, Steve leaned down another inch till their mouths almost touched. Kissing often didn’t work well for James. Mostly it made him think of bite guards and the tearing of bloody flesh as the Asset bit it off. But he pushed up his lips to meet Steve's, a brief press of connection. It felt similar to when they cuddled in bed together at night, when James sprawled on top of Steve and their soft penises flattened against each other.

“You’re so good to me,” Steve murmured, sounding almost reverent as his thumb stroked over the hairs of one of James’s eyebrows. “You’re so beautiful, and you’re here with me.”

Steve was incorrect on at least one count, but James had to agree that he was indeed here with Steve, and that was better than anywhere else he could possibly be. Steve’s expression showed doubt and concern as he started to rock his hips, though, as if he were silently asking if it was really all right for him to finish a third time in a row.

“Go on,” James encouraged, squeezing Steve’s side with his good hand again. But instead of continuing, Steve paused.

“I’m sort of on top of you, are you sure this is alright?” he asked, anxious. His penis was so wet that even the small shifts inherent in asking made his genitals slip and twitch.

James blinked, surprised at the question. Often having anyone on top of him did trigger him worse, but he hadn’t even thought about it now.

“Go on,” he repeated.

Steve leaned his forehead down onto James’s shoulder and gasped there as he set to rutting, fingertips digging into James’s ribs, letting out sweet little noises of intensity. James wondered what Steve was feeling. He wondered if he himself had _ever_ felt anything as nice as what Steve seemed to get multiple times every time they had sex. James’s exhausted penis gave a half-hearted twitch at the knowledge that Steve was about to come again, but it didn’t even try to get erect now.

Steve took barely any time to come, whimpering and shaking at James’s side, adding further to the mess that was now their bed. (Research had indicated to James that producing this quantity of semen after two prior ejaculations was abnormal for most men, so it had to be a result of the serum. James supposed he might be the same, if his worthless body could ever be convinced to come more than once a day. Which it apparently could not, so they’d never know.) The House had long ago ordered them extra sets of sheets to keep up with the way they got fluids everywhere even when they bothered to put down towels.

Steve’s semen dripped down James’s side, but his smile was sunny as he lifted his head to look at James.

“You’ve always been a good lover, but you’re even better these days,” Steve informed him, with a kiss to James’s cheek. James’s eyebrows lifted. He rarely wanted to hear about Bucky, who was dead and whose absence caused Steve so much distress, but James was curious this time.

“What was it like before?”

Steve ran an affectionate fingertip over James’s cheekbone, down into his stubble. The sex flush still hadn’t faded out of Steve's cheeks, which were pink as he chuckled.

“I used to say you were a natural-born ladykiller. Your little guy always took some coaxing and a firm touch to get to final destination, and you told me once that not all girls were tight enough for the job even if they felt great otherwise. Meant you got away with almost never wearing a rubber, since you never came in any of the girls, and you got glowing reviews because you lasted so long.” Steve’s smile broadened. “Back then, my johnson was even more reluctant than yours. Only got hard maybe one time out of six, and I only came one time out of four. But you were always sweet to me about it, never made me feel like I was busted because of what I couldn’t do.” Steve’s happy laugh shook them both. “What a pair we made back then! Sex could last for _hours_  sometimes, both of us trying to figure out how in the hell to finish. I hated it at first, made me feel like I was defective that it was so difficult for me. But after a while I saw the fun in it, especially since you were ‘fully functional’ but not much better. Most people, it was just _bang bang_ and _done_. For us? We got much more than that.”

A sweep of chilly stillness settled over James as Steve talked, and he stared up at the other man. Aaliyah had worked with James at great length to help him be able to identify feelings, but he still had no idea what he was feeling now beyond _strange_. He blinked once, then twice, before getting any words out.

“I....my body’s always been like this?”

Steve blinked back at him, clearly surprised.

“Yeah, always. A _little_ moreso now, because I can tell your mind wanders. But Aaliyah and JARVIS both tell me that’s normal, with everything you’ve been through.”

“So this--” James waved his good hand down at his genitals, “--isn’t because of....the Chair. Or everything else.” He didn’t say _The hundreds of rapes._

Steve pushed himself up so his weight rested on his hand rather than his elbow, staring down into James’s face.

“You thought it was?”

James looked away.

“Why didn’t the serum fix this?” he asked instead, not really wanting the answer. Was his body so defective that not even the _serum_ had been able to correct it? “Why didn’t it make me like you?”

Steve’s hand pressed lightly onto James’s sternum, the touch unusually tentative compared to Steve’s normal rough-and-tumble.

“For me it was because I couldn't get hard 'cus of all my circulation problems,” Steve said gently. "With you, there wasn't anything to fix."

“I _want_ to be fixed!” James burst out, and pulled away. He couldn’t bear the touch of skin on skin anymore. “I want to not be like _this_ anymore! My brain is broken, my stomach’s broken, even my _penis_ is broken! It shouldn’t take this much effort to _feel good!”_

For several seconds there was silence. James swung his legs over the side of the mattress, ready to just leave to take a shower. He was wet and sticky all over and he hated it--Hydra had left the Asset sticky like this too, until they sent it away to be hosed off--but he couldn’t leave yet, he hadn’t checked to see if Steve was bleeding.

“Funny,” Steve remarked, his voice low and quiet. “I said something very similar to you after sex once, when I was twenty. You didn’t know what to say to me, either.”

James swallowed, wishing he could somehow stop his own parts from touching each other. Spread himself out over a greater area so his toes and knees and arms and sides would no longer be in contact with themselves. He had no right to be angry at Steve, who was only ever good and patient with him. ( _Except when he’s a self-sacrificing asshole,_ another part of James interjected, but he ignored it.) James tried to find words, swallowing several times before his throat would cooperate.

“I just want to not be like this,” James admitted at last. “Everything is so difficult all the time. If I’ve _always_ been this way, then maybe I’m just not designed to feel good.”

The bed moved as Steve sat up, shuffling over to sit beside James. They didn’t touch, a foot of space standing between them now, and James was grateful for Steve's restraint.

“That’s bullshit,” Steve stated, the words delivered kindly despite their content, and then he sighed. “I don’t know if I believe in God anymore. So I don’t know if someone _designed_ you this way, or if it’s just biological variance that makes some people how you are and some people how I am. But it doesn't matter either way. The point is that you don’t have to be easy to be worth the effort.”

They both stared out the window. New York lay spread below them, afternoon light glittering off all the glassy skyscrapers.

“That’s probably not what you want to hear,” Steve went on when James said nothing. “If you’re anything like I was, you probably want to hear the pain will go away, and you won’t hurt anymore. I....I get that. But I think things _will_ change for the better. And I think even if it always takes effort for you to come, everything else will get easier with time.”

James edged sideways just a little, until he could lean his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“When,” he asked, tired. 

“Wish I knew, sweetheart. You wanna check my ass like usual?”

“Yeah.”

So Steve obligingly got up on all fours, ass up in the air and knees wide. James moved behind him, spreading the muscular cheeks still further apart for the deepest possible view.

A visual inspection showed no blood on the buttocks or the outside of the anus. With care, James slipped two fingers into the opening, feeling for any roughness or lumps that would indicate swelling or tearing.

There was nothing. Steve was whole and unharmed inside, as always, and still loose and good and willing.

Maybe someday, _some_  part of James would be the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> The "complicated consent" tag refers to the fact that Bucky/James avoids telling Steve that he is triggered almost all the time every time they have sex, and whether Steve is aware of this fact is left open-ended and unclear. Whether this is a violation of Steve's consent is a fraught question, and not one I as the author have answered for myself. James has the right to decide that he is ready and willing to have sex despite the fact that he will be triggered by doing so, and the right to hold his own thoughts and experiences private. But Steve probably also has the right to refuse to have sex with someone who is thinking about being brutally raped the entire time, and James/Bucky doesn't give Steve the ability to consent or not consent to this aspect of their sex life. 
> 
> If anyone reading this wants me to add additional tags or warnings, please let me know.


End file.
